Kansas had long daylight hours, making the spring breeze warmer. Under the gentle wind, the wheat fields rolled like the footsteps of the Goddess of Spring.
On the country path, the early summer drizzle carried the damp fragrance of grass. After taking a few steps through the mud, one could see the outline of the town on the horizon.
Smallville lay in southern Kansas. It was an obscure little town, so obscure that its most famous moment had been the not particularly astonishing discussion sparked by a meteor landing there more than twenty years ago.
More than twenty years had passed, and most people had forgotten the accident. They had also forgotten the excitement of eagerly discussing whether aliens had carved writing into the meteor at the town's only bar.
But whenever those days were mentioned, every Smallville resident wore a proud smile. It had been the moment when this ordinary town received the most attention.
The floral curtains fluttered in the breeze. A pair of somewhat rough hands used equally rough hemp rope to tie them back. The brown-haired middle-aged man turned around and said, "...Yes, I was there that night. You wouldn't believe how close I was to that meteor. The dust practically flew right past my nose."
"After the reporters came, the first thing they asked was whether I was hurt. They seemed to think that if such a huge rock landed on my head, I could still be alive. If you ask me, those reporters were being a little too dramatic..."
"Hey, Jor-El, enough of that. Don't forget that our dear Clark is a proud reporter now too. You'll hurt his feelings." A gentle female voice came from the kitchen.
The busy figure in the kitchen had beautiful auburn curls. She wore a red plaid apron